


Cold as the Void

by Story781



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Crying, Cyanide calls Lucien "Lulu", Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ghost Lucien is....... having feels and doesnt like it very much, I dont know how to tag here so I'll just do what my heart tells me, I mean I think so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 06:10:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20041189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Story781/pseuds/Story781
Summary: The ghost of Lucien Lachance was sure that his Silencer from over 200 years ago was dead, until they meet again in Skyrim.





	Cold as the Void

**Author's Note:**

> So hey, uhhh, this is my first time writing anything about Lucien AND writing anything here. So here it goes. Enjoy, I guess.

Do you miss it sometimes?”, she asked, eyes focused on something way above her head.

„Do I... what?” 

The spirit of Lucien Lachance, the one and only, turned its head to look at the person next to it. Lucien's Silencer from all those years ago, before the Dragonborn, before Astrid, before his... well, death. 

After the shock of „Wait, what do you mean you're alive?!” faded from both sides, came a surprisingly awkward silence. 

Cyanide, the Grand Champion, the Hero of Kvatch, and so on and so forth, wanted nothing more than to tell him how much she missed him, how heartbroken his death left her. All while she also felt the need to beat the living shit out of him for going to Applewatch without her and just waiting there, all alone and defenseless. 

But that would be childish. And as much as her feelings told her it was fine to be a whiny child just this once, she knew better. 

Lucien, on the other hand... he was just plain surprised to see her again. Sure, she didn't seem to have joined their Dread Father in the Void, but he assumed it was for literally any other reason than just not dying when she really should have. It's not that he wanted her to die, not exactly, no, it's just... that's what humans do, and last time he checked, that's just what she was. Her eyes didn't glow red either when they met in Skyrim, so vampirism most likely wasn't it as well. 

Somewhere between the two realizing each other's identities, and Cyanide's nervous „You look a lot better than the last time I saw you", Dragonborn dragged Cicero away, leaving the assassins alone.  
And so there they were. Sat down on a fallen tree, on the soft moss covering it. Not that it really mattered to Lucien, but his Silencer seemed keen on the way it felt.

„Do you miss the warmth?”, she finally managed to ask, turning her head as well. „I've heard that the Void isn't very warm. And thought that I'd miss it.”, she rambled, avoiding further eye-contact and moving her hand an inch closer to his ghostly one. „I just... well, I thought that... maybe you too miss the warm fire... or a warm drink... or something.” She chuckled, tensing her shoulders.

Lucian raised a brow, holding back a condescending smile. „Are you asking something of me?” 

Cyanide laughed again and raised her hand to her face, just to rub her own chin. „I, I don't know, am I?", she mumbled as she ran her fingers through her short hair. 

Did Lucien miss feeling warm? No, not really. He always felt good in cold places. Made of stone, underground, maybe both. He had nothing to miss. 

However, the former Speaker assumed, and as it turned out – correctly, that Cyanide wasn't asking about sunshine, fire or warm drinks. She asked about the warmth of human hands and embraces. To which, the answer was still „no”. 

But she missed it. She missed it but didn't think directly asking for contact was appropriate. After all, they were professionals.  
But oh, they were also family, no? Maybe most, if not all, of the brothers and sisters the two knew 200 years ago have already passed away, but as long as Cyanide was a member of the Brotherhood, that's what she was. Not just an assassin, a sister.

Hesitant for just a moment, Lucien reached out his ghostly arm and pulled her in, to lean against his not-quite-there shoulder. She gave in without any protests and even caught one of his hands in hers.

Cyanide was warm. But it's not like the Speaker could feel that. There was no pain in The Void, but other physical feelings weren't there either. He felt her touch, but that was it. Almost like leaning against a wall. 

„You're so cold, Lulu...” the woman murmured in a shaky voice, her hand softly caressing his cheek, eyes watering. „But, but that's okay... that's okay, Mr. Lachance, I'm just glad to see you again, to hold your hand...” She rambled.

It's been so long since the last time he heard her call him that, and he hated it just a little less.  
So there was one thing he missed, then. Something he refused to admit 200 years ago and refused to admit now. Something that only bugged him in life and that almost choked him in death. 

Lucien wasn't sad he died. Truth be told, he wasn't sad at all. Looking at his Silencer like this made him feel something confusing but it wasn't sadness. 

He left her alone for so long. Cyanide managed by herself, of course she did, she wouldn't have gotten this high up in the ranks if she didn't. It still was... ah.  
There wasn't even a goodbye. He wasn't very keen on the idea of them, they seemed weak and pathetic. However, their last interactions weren't very pleasant and he felt like a goodbye was the least he could have done.

He wondered if she still remembered how the last time they've seen each other he yelled at her. How he... didn't really appreciate her concern. The last thing he remembered doing anywhere near her was hiding at Applewatch and almost literally barking orders, to go look for evidence of his innocence and to leave him alone. 

Maybe he should have gone with her. They could have either taken on the Black Hand together or presented them the evidence against Mathieu.  
After all these years, Lucien had no hard feelings about dying the way he did. Sure, he did sound a little salty about it from time to time, but, if anything, he was actually kind of impressed. To hold a grudge born at the age of 30 for so long and spend all your life on just one murder? That's commitment, and he had to admit it. 

None of that made his death any more pleasant. He still remembered it, the pain, the torture, everything. To think he could have at least tried to avoid it if he only wasn't so insistent on his Silencer doing all fieldwork, as was tradition. 

With a deep sigh, he turned his head to look at Cyanide again. Her round face was a mess, red and covered in tears. Her body shaking with sobs.  
She looked pathetic. Weak. Exactly like the person he'd kill without a thought, just like that. Because he could. 

But she was the member of the Brotherhood he trusted most when he was alive. This... display of feelings, this vulnerability... She trusted him too.  
Because of course she did. She did whatever his orders told her to, no matter how painful to carry out. She trusted his judgment centuries ago and she trusted him now. 

Lucien raised his hand and wiped tears off her cheek. He felt the woman shift and before he knew it, she was pressing a kiss against his fingers. 

„Oh." The Speaker managed, raising his eyebrows, stunned.  
Cyanide was already back to crying into his shoulder. His body was material enough for her tears to soak into his robes. 

„I... I missed you, Lulu...” she choked out, squeezing his hand. „All this time I... missed you so much...”.

Cyanide looked him in the eyes. Hers were red from all the crying and so full of emotion. Full of a different type of love, one that he'd never seen. 

Something inside him both cracked and melted.

And suddenly there was both pain and warmth in the Void.


End file.
